DFW to Houston: We're #1!

Robert Boyd


Our art is better than your art

"RR," a blogger from the DFW area, writes a very succinct post about a trip to Houston he made to check out the Forrest Bess show at the Menil. He made 14 stops altogether to check out art--a crowded day of art viewing. Here are a few highlights:

• #1 stop at Bill Davenport's "Bill's Junk" in the Heights. Always a priority when I go to Houston. 
• #5 stop - Paul Fleming at the most unfriendly gallery in Texas Barbara Davis Gallery followed closely by Holly Johnson Gallery in Dallas. I should have skipped this one. I will never step inside this place again.
• #6 stop at one of my favorite galleries, Inman Gallery. You can't go wrong here. Robert Ruello was a pleasant surprise and the first time to see Jim Richard's work in person. Not disappointed.
•  #9 stop - Devin Borden Gallery, we didn't even bother ringing the bell.
• #11 stop - A long time favorite gallery of mine - Betty Moody, the friendlist gallery in Texas representing important artists. Helen Altman (wall) and Lisa Ludwig (table) in the back gallery.

(Note to gallerists: don't be rude. Someone might blog about you.)

The kicker after these 14 stops? RR's conclusion: "This trip proved to me that the best art coming out of Texas right now is from North Texas. But I will try again in the fall."

My first thought was outrage. How dare RR draw such a conclusion after visiting two museums, 11 commercial galleries and Bill Davenport? Maybe the art on view in those places at this time doesn't represent Houston very well. One needs to see what's happening in artist-run spaces, in the smaller, funkier galleries, in the schools, etc.

But then I checked myself--I am totally guilty of the same behavior. Every time I go to Dallas/Fort Worth, I find myself drawing big conclusions about the area based on my brief visit. There is something about DFW that brings this out in me. But the fact is that a brief visit to a place can provide a suggestion of what the place is all about at best.

RR might be right. I was mighty impressed the last time I was in Dallas. And even if he is not right, I like the fact that the age-old rivalry between DFW and Houston continues to be played out even in the arena of art. But I don't think that visiting 14 galleries and museums over the course of a weekend (a day?) gave RR an accurate picture of Houston's art scene.

So RR, here is my proposition. The next time you come down for a visit, contact me. I'll be happy to show you the best of whatever happens to be up.

What Art Did You Like Best in Houston This Year?

Robert Boyd

One thing for sure, when it came to art in Houston in 2012, we weren't starved for choice. There were tons of exhibits and performances--so many that I don't think anyone could have seen them all. (Not even me.) I count over 500 separate exhibits or events. I've got most of them on this survey, but I know I missed at least a few.

The lists are organized by artists names, more or less (multiple artist shows complicate the issue). You can check off as many as you want on questions 1 and 2 (but you can only make one choice in question 3). Don't worry if you didn't see every show or even a majority of them--this about you telling us what you liked best of the shows you saw. If you only saw one exhibit and you loved it, vote for it!

I've embedded the survey here, but if this is hard to navigate, you can go to the Survey Monkey page.

I'll collect results until January 7, and then I'll publish the results. So get voting!

Create your free online surveys with SurveyMonkey, the world's leading questionnaire tool.

Houston Reflections

Houston Reflections: Art in the City, 1950s, 60s and 70s by Sarah Reynolds takes on a pretty unpromising topic. Was there art in Houston then? Of course there was, and a lot of what we see today around Houston's art scene was established or massively developed during that period. Now if you go try to buy this book, it's going to run you ninety-something dollars. Astonishingly, the book is available for free online. You can read it here. I just started it today.

The book is a collection of interviews of people involved in the arts during those days. Each one is separate, which has advantages. For instance, I was able to pull read interviews with one of my old art history professors, Bill Camfield, and with the woman I took painting lessons from in high school, Stella Sullivan. That was nice. But I wish instead of this format, Reynolds had gone the Edie route and chopped up the interviews to make a historical narrative. As it is, you can piece together events based on the separate interviews. I wish the interviews had been longer and more detailed.

But these are minor cavils for an amazing resource that anyone can access for free. It's required reading if you are interested in Houston's art history.

Note on Jim Love: From Now On

 
Jim Love: From Now On
This big book is a retrospective of the work of sculptor Jim Love. Love (1927-2005) was one of Houston's first modern artists, and his biography is a major part of the art history of Houston. This is a subject that interests me greatly (as regular readers know). In the sixties, Mad Magazine published a piece called something like "Incredibly Short Books." The titles were along the lines of "The Humility of Mohammed Ali" and "Great Military Victories of the Italian Army." On the face of it, "The Art History of Houston" would be such a book.

But I am fascinated with this history, largely because I'm here and can witness it happening. But also, because I like seeing how art history unfolds in "provincial" locations, outside the art capitals. And what is interesting about looking at art in these places is to see how it evolved in its own unique way (always, though, in a kind of dialogue with the art capitals). That's why I am fascinated with the history of the Ferus Gallery and the evolution of art in L.A. during the sixties. I am very interested in Soviet non-comformist art for the same reason. (I also happen to like the art of both places quite a lot.) I'm not suggesting Houston artists have achieved what the L.A. artists of the 60s or the non-conformist artists did, but the story of Houston's art is still interesting.

Love was one of the earliest modern artists in Houston. Love went to Baylor and fell in with the theater crowd. He started building theater sets, and eventually met Jermayne MacAgy. She hired him to be a "museum technician" at the nascent Contemporary Arts Museum in 1956. (MacAgy is a key figure in the history of art in Houston. She was hired to come to Houston by the great catalyst of art in Houston, Dominique De Menil.) It was only after he started working in the museum that Love started making art by welding bits of junk together. That was, more or less, his career until he died.

He was lumped in with the assemblagists early on, but his art isn't like Rauschenberg or Kienholz. The artist he most resembles is H.C. Westermann (from another "provincial" art city, Chicago). But Love was a lesser artist. There aren't great depths in his work, nor was he as formally inventive as his peers in New York and Chicago and Los Angeles. His work has a kind of sweet childlike quality, reflected in his subject matter--flowers, jacks, teddy bears.

As a Rice student, I saw his sculpture "Paul Bunyan Bouquet #2" on campus often (it was, and as far as I know still is, in the Lovett College courtyard). I always thought it was kind of ridiculous. I've mellowed towards it as I've gotten older. I can enjoy the charms of Love's work now. His work is visible all over Houston. (I'll try to take photos of some of the public work, and add their locations to my art map.)

This book has great photos of most of Love's work. The essays and timeline that accompany the photos give you a good idea of where Love came from and his place in the local scene. The Mel Chin piece is an especially interesting tribute.

Robert's Houston Art Map

View Robert's Houston Art Map in a larger map

This is a map I have been keeping as I visit different art venues around town. It's not nearly complete, although I can say I have visited most of the commercial galleries and non-profit galleries/museums in the area. Obviously stuff is concentrated inside the Loop--and within the Loop in spacific areas, like the Museum District (duh), Montrose, the West End, the Heights, and the area immediately north of Downtown.

As I continue to add to this map, I expect I will add more "outside the Loop" venues. I know many of the regional community colleges have galleries on campus, for example, and I'd like to check them out. But as in most cities, art venues tend to be clustered where there is the largest number of potential artists, aficionados, intellectuals, and collectors. And for Houston, that sweet spot is mostly inside the Loop.

Notice to Haters of Children and Grumpy Misanthropes

If you are seeking a serene, contemplative art-viewing experience, I suggest you stay away from Houston's various art museums this Saturday. (On the other hand, if you are looking for something fun and cultural to do with the kids, this might be perfect.)

Frenetic Fringe Festival -- Weekend 3 Bullets

I went to the final day of the Frenetic Fringe Festival on Saturday, and have been processing it ever since. This was the first night that felt distinctly fringey. This is not a value judgement, and if anything, it says more about me than about the work. But on other nights, I might have reacted "Hmmm, yes... Yes..." or "Meh," this night's show evoked a few "Holy shits" from me.

Again I apologize for no photos--they really would help. You wouldn't be forced to depend on my inadequate descriptions, delivered insultingly in bulletpoints, as if this were a memo for upper management.

So with that, away we go!

"What The Storm Brought Home" by Jere Pfister

• A one-woman play.
• She tells us about her mother and three aunts from New Orleans.
• After Katrina, she had to rescue one of the aunts, Billie, from a shelter in Baton Rouge.
• Billie is starting to go senile.
• Billie talks to the narrator's dead mother about sexual abuse she suffered from her step-father.
• The narrator realizes that her aunts, who seemed so puritanical and who took obsessive interest in her sex life, were protecting her.
• They never left her alone with her grandfather.
• But they could never say why until they were old and seriously infirm.
• This was one of the "Hmmm, yes..." pieces. It was good but not "fringe."

"Pain, Pleasure, and a Bunny Rabbit" directed by Kieth Reynolds

• A farce like "Spelling Bee Sluts" from the second weekend.
• A father takes his three daughters out to one of those hunting ranches where they keep animals penned for hunters to shoot.
• One daughter is a goth, one daughter is a curvy blonde airhead, and one daughter is a mannish lesbian.
• The animals are mostly dancers, so whenever the ranch manager sets one free, we see some animalish dancing.
• Which is abruptly truncated by the shooting of the four hunters.
• There is also music and singing.
• The music was played on a keyboard set-up and was amplified. It tended to drown out the unamplified singing.
• While I watched this, I kept wondering, what is the point? In short, "Meh."

"Tetsujin" by Rebecca French and Robert Thoth

• These two are the founders of FrenetiCore and the Frenetic Theater
• This film is basically a film of three women dancing in an industrial landscape, while a man does karate movies.
• This seems like something in the air--combining modern dance with other activities that involve the moving body.
• So combine modern dance with kung fu, or with circus clowning.
• It was an interesting piece of work. 
• Tasteful, not very "fringey" except for the unusual combination of dance and martial arts.

"Forever Hold Your Piece (for Now) A.K.A. Bob Hope's Nightmare" choreographed by Rob Davidson (Kinetic Architecture)

• This was the first piece that seemed really fringey.
• Davidson is a dancer who presented a kind of high-camp U.S.O. show.
• He was dressed in drag as a spike-haired Statue of Liberty.
• His dress left his upper chest bare, so we could see his pierced nipples.
• His clunky high-heel boots made dancing a little challenging.
  
• The "chorus line" girls were dressed in frilly hot-pants and red-white-and-blue tops.
• Davidson spoke to the audience and encouraged audience participation.
• One of the dances was to a medley of the armed service theme songs.
• Then he changed into a costume that would allow a little more dance-like movement.
• He danced to "Don't Laugh at Me."
• This is that super corny song that begs people not to laugh at other people because they are different.
• The sentiment is unarguable, but the song is cringe-inducing.
• In his dance of the song, he kept falling down and popping back up.
• It was hard to tell whether he wanted us to experience the music ironically (about the only way I can experience it) or not!
• Davidson was funny, an amazing showman, outrageous, and a hell of a dancer.

 "Alice and the Underground" written by Janet Thielke and Mark Carrier

• A conversation between  three members of the Weather Underground on the day they accidentally blow themselves up.
• Alice, the female member, is unconvinced about the bombing that is planned.
• The two other guys use wacky, fractured logic to try to convince her.
• The conversation deliberately reflects Alice, the Mad Hatter, and the Doormouse.
• It's a clever conceit, and it sort of works.
• But it kind of goes on too long. 

"Easy Credit Theater" by Richard Hubscher

• This is a performance that includes "dance" broadly defined, singing, and extreme physicality.
• It's the second Frenetic Fringe Festival that deliberately recalls Butoh.
• Hubscher is on stage in a Butoh-like loin cloth.
• But more important, he performs under an extreme physical constraint, one he can barely manage.
• This gives his performance unbelievable tension.
• He lifts a wide wooden beam onto his shoulders.
• It must be 30 feet wide, 4" x 4".
• He staggers under the weight.
• It is slightly unbalanced, and when he looks like he is about to fall, he asks for help centering it.
• He speaks into a microphone.
• You can hear him panting.
• He tells us that it is a beam from the floor of his house, which has been torn down.
• He is muscular--he definitely has a dancer's body.
• But he is staggering under the weight.
• You can see his muscles straining, and the mike picks up his panting.
• He then sings a torch song to a recorded accompaniment.
• He finishes while we in the audience were grimacing, awaiting his fall.
• Surely he is meaning to recall Jesus Christ bearing the cross through the streets to Calvary.
  
• His assistants lift the beam off his shoulders.
• He breathes hard, and slowly puts on his pants, shirt, and shoes.
• Then he sings (rants, chants, raps) another song--an angry one about being a Texan.
• It's for George Bush.

Untitled by Jim Pirtle

• Another legitimately "fringe" performance.
• Pirtle is kind of a local performance art legend.
• He has stuff up right now at CAMH, if you want to see his tamer side.
• For this performance, he explains that he heard somewhere that you can get drunk faster if you squirt booze up your ass.
• Uh oh...
• He has a squeeze bottle, lube, and a bottle of wine.
• And "stunt pants" as he calls them.
• And thank god for that--he doesn't actually have to take the pants off.
• Still, we watch the entire awkward process.
• He succeeds in getting a small quantity of wine up there (or so it seems--no way to know for sure, really).
• He gives himself the classic pre-breathalizer sobriety test. He is still sober.
• But he assures us it might take a few minutes before he is "rip-snorting."
• His is the only performance that required no talent.
• Yet he was funny and obviously knew how to keep an audience's attention.
• Pirtle is a showman, that's for sure.

Frenetic Fringe Fotos

I was contacted by choreographer Toni Leago Valle, who had three dances at last weekend's Fringe Festival. She knew one of the photographers present (Ted Viens), and has given me permission to post some of his photos from her dance pieces.


Catalina Molnari in "Silent Victim"

http://www.flickr.com/photos/ted_viens/ / CC BY 2.0

Mechelle Flemming in "Interview for a Date/I Take My Dress Off"

http://www.flickr.com/photos/ted_viens/ / CC BY 2.0

Toni Leago Valle in "I Am Mother"

http://www.flickr.com/photos/ted_viens/ / CC BY 2.0

Pieced Together and the Tradition of Graffiti

Robert Boyd

I went to the opening of "Pieced Together" at the Aerosol Warfare Gallery, an exhibit of graffiti art by a variety of Texas artists. This show has been traveling around the country, and Aerosol Warfare is the final stop. Aerosol Warfare is a local gallery devoted to graffiti art and related items.



exterior of Aerosol Warfare



interior of Aerosol Warfare

The pieces on display are small, essentially acrylic versions of the type of large-scale wall pieces that typify the artform.



"Icons" by Reks and Worms



"Extended Release" by Dmise

The opening was not just a passive viewing experience for gallery goers. They had a wall of tiny canvases where you could make your own micro-graffiti piece for $5; it was very popular with the kids (and their parents). They set up a computer-controlled projection system that allowed people to create large scale graffiti pieces projected onto the wall of a building across the street. And they had car-hoods on easels with local artists creating pieces on them.













Even notorious local poster artist Give Up did one. I asked if Give Up was present, but the publicity-shy artist apparently stayed away, lest someone snap his photo. (Someone even asked me if I was Give Up.)

There was an amazing display in the store.

 

Commemorative Puma sneakers in honor of the late, great Vaughn Bode. This shows that the proprietors of Aerosol Warfare have an awareness of history.

Graffiti art is essentially ephemeral. Illegally put up on walls and concrete barriers, they get rapidly painted over by property owners, city workers, highway departments, transit agencies, etc. This situation would seem inimical to the formation of a tradition. And yet, in pre-literate societies, traditions like this of impermanent artforms (performed music, spoken poetry) have lasted for centuries.



"Michelle" by Sloke

So who was Vaughn Bode and what does he have to do with graffiti? Was he a graffiti artist? Nope. He was a cartoonist whose style informed a lot of the early New York City graffiti artists.




Early writers not only imitated Bode's art style. They included many of his figures in their pieces--Cheech Wizard, the lizards, the "Bode broads", etc.

What were some other non-graffiti sources? I think the psychedelic rock posters of the 60s had their effect. I also think these artists were looking at the artists from Heavy Metal magazine (which started publication in the U.S. in 1977). Specifically artists like Caza and Druillet.



"Supher" by Supher

But these artists who were covering subway cars in NYC in the 1970s have no relationship to an artist like "News" from the Rio Grande Valley--except that a tradition has been established and spread across the U.S. and indeed all over the world.



"Daily News" by News

This artform has been given a certain degree of respect from the fine arts world, analogous with its grudging embrace of comics art by the art world. Art critics respect its folkish traditions and seeming authenticity. But graffiti art has some problems as far as being a part of the art world. It's not a perfect fit. There is a basic truth about graffiti--it is a fundamentally adolescent artform. This is not to say its practitioners are teenagers (although many are), but graffiti, like so many adolescent activities, involves the thrill of petty crime. The colors and cartoonish origins also feel adolescent.

I am not trying to insult the art of graffiti. But I do wonder what it would mean to be an old graffiti artist. Maybe it would look something like this piece.



"Paper in the Wind" by Spain

Frenetic Fringe Festival -- Weekend 2 Bullets

Last week I complained about the Fringe Festival not being quite "fringe" enough. This week was an improvement on that score, and over-all a more interesting and pleasurable evening. You can still see it tonight (Saturday, August 15) or tomorrow. Again to be brief, I'm going to use bullets.

There's a Tsunami at Your Door

• A short play by Mary Ellen Whitworth.
• A woman about to commit suicide is interrupted by a desperate cable salesman.
• Similar to "Velocity" from last week it its use of a tragedy that happened in the past as the cause of what's happening now.
• But it is a straight-forward narrative, not fractured like "Velocity."
• The acting was slightly raw.
• The play had funny moments despite its grim subject.

Dancing Diana

• This struck me as fairly innovative.
  
• Instead of a musical score, there were three short, personal stories by Diana Weeks.
• They were recorded by her and played over loudspeakers.
• She sat stage (she's an older woman, perhaps in her 60s or 70s) while the dancers danced.
• The dancers "interpreted" her story through dance.
• The connection was tenuous, but--
• Both aspects--the story and the dance--were enjoyable.
• It was like, say, riding your bike while listening to your Ipod. You get simultaneous pleasure from both activities.

Spelling Bee Sluts

• A short play by Paul Locklear.
• Slight, farcical story about a hillbilly who comes to L.A. to make it big on the spelling bee circuit.
• He ends up working as a male prostitute.
• A pretty minor piece of work, I'd have to say.

G.I. Joe PSAs

• These were cartoon public service announcements from the 1980s, featuring the G.I. Joe characters telling kids about safety.
• Eric Fensler has recorded new dialogue for them.
• This had the potential to be funny but predictable.
• But Fensler's dialogue (often sounds or made-up foreign languages) was absurd and bizarre.
• It wass still really funny--but not in an easy or obvious way.

Thurmond, W. Va.

• A documentary by Laura Harrison about a soon-to-be ghost town.
• 18 people still live there.
• The National Park Service has bought out most of the folks in town. The intent is to turn this coal mining town into a park along the lines of Mystic Seaport.
• It felt like a typical documentary, one that had neither the power of the old-school documentaries of, say, the Maysles brothers.
• Nor did it use the innovations of Errol Morris or Michael Moore.
• Not that it was bad, just not all that exciting...

Three dance pieces choreographed by Toni Leago Valle

• These were the best things I saw all night, indeed the best out of both nights.
• Three solo dances, three solo dancers. They were highly controlled athletes, but each with a kind of way about her that marked them as artists.

"Silent Victim"

• Catalina Molnari is stranded on unsteady looking rectangular boxes. She barely moves as she grips them and attempts to balance.

"Interview for a Date/I Take My Clothes Off"

• Mechelle Fleming is the dancer in this strangely sexual piece.
• In the first part, there is a film of a girl (Valle) being questioned, job-interview style, about why she would be a good girlfriend for the unseen male interviewer.
  
• The interview itself is forced and calculating, dealing with the value she brings to him as a girlfriend. She is desperate.
• When the interview seems to go wrong, she remembers something.
• She tells him, "Oh, I forgot! I'm good at sex!"
• The whole time, Fleming is sitting on a chair, facing away from the audience.
• She twitches and makes small moves, as if she is constrained and ready to move.
• The movie ends and she starts dancing.
• Her dance struck me as almost tortured. I can hardly describe it in a way that makes sense.
  
• She seem struck by things outside herself, while engaging with a negotiation with herself.
• She seemed buffeted, struck by forces.
• (But, it should be said, it was clear she was fully in control as a dancer.)
• Finally, she took off her dress.
• And it ended with her standing there in her underwear.
• It it appropriate to mention that she is an astonishingly beautiful woman?
• I regret not having photos of the Fringe Festival, especially for the three dances that Valle choreographed.

"I Am Mother"

• The dancer was Valle.
• Her skin was covered with white, pasty makeup except for her eyes, which were kind of a red racoon mask.
• The dance was done seated, under a soft, dim red spotlight.
• Weirdly enough, I was reminded of the installation by Carlos Runcie-Tanaka called "Tiempo Detenido/No Olvidar." The atmosphere was similar.
• Her movements were constrained by her seated posture.
• But the effect was nonetheless electrifying.

I haven't seen enough dance to have a vocabulary to describe what I was seeing. But Toni Leago Valle's three dance pieces were undeniably moving; thrilling even.

General vibe.

• I sat under a fan, so the lack of AC wasn't too horrible.
• They have us fill out an audience poll that includes demographic info.
  
• Apparently collecting this info will help them get grants.
• With which they can, say, buy central air-conditioning.
• The seats at Frenetic are only slightly more comfortable than airline seats.
• It seems like a lot of folks are there just to see their friends or family's performance.
• Consequently, a lot of people leave at the intermission.
• Maybe it's not so bad on Saturday and Sunday.
• But one would certainly wish for more support from people who have no personal connection with the performers.
• (Of course, I could be wrong about the audience...)
• I wish I could photograph some of the performances and put them up here.
• That said, there were two photographers with serious-looking photo set-ups in the audience.
• So perhaps if you search the web, you can find some images.

I thought the show was well-worth the modest ticket price, so catch it tonight or tomorrow if you can.

Frenetic Fringe Festival Week 1 bullets

Friday night I attended day one of the Frenetic Fringe Festival at the Frenetic Theater out on Navigation. This was the first night of a month-long series that combines theater, dance, and film/video pieces. My expectations were for some really avant garde stuff. But what counts as avant garde today, after a 20th century full of it? I imagined the theater would be Samuel Beckett or Charles Ludlam-type things, or maybe pieces related to modern performance art, or Antonin Artaud-Alfred Jarry-like provocations. For the film, I imagined Bruce Conner-like assemblages, Stan Brackhage-ish abstraction, or even Andy Warhol-esque minimalism. And I know nothing about dance, so I didn't have much in the way of expectations there--or so I thought.

The Festival was not as radical (so far) as what I expected. The pieces were all pretty approachable. I was hoping to be challenged a bit more.

Nearing Velocity

• A short play by Liz Gilbert.
• In fragments, we see all the people who were involved in a car accident at Richmond and Montrose.
• One driver Mallory is now paralyzed, a man, Boyd [sic], in the other car paralyzed with guilt.
• It was a strong opener, with good actors and a play that unfolded in an interesting way.
• I now realize that they bookended the opening night of festival with their two best pieces (of the night).
• It might be my old age, but I sometimes had to strain to hear what the cast members were saying.

Beyond the Sphere

• Three women dancing.
• Supposedly about life after death. Music combined with a tape of someone relating a after death experience.
• I have a preconceived notion that all dancers are perfect physical specimens, strong but elegant and beautiful women.
• (See Olga Khokhlova and Lydia Lopokova of the Ballets Russes, for example.)
• But one of these women was a bit on the chunky side.
• People in glass houses should not throw stones, yet this slightly disturbed me!
• The piece was long (it seemed) and by the end, I was in a pleasantly hypnotic state.
• Despite having not understood it at all.

Nevel Is the Devil

• This short film was mildly amusing, but not particularly "fringe."
  
• Office Space was a better movie on a similar theme.

Bruna Bunny and Baby Girl

• The second play of the evening had a tepidly surreal premise.
• A former circus performer's 12-year-old daughter has hair on her chest.
• The girl, Baby Girl, was actually played by a little girl, who did a hell of a job.
• But the play's point was lost on me--it seemed silly without being all that entertaining.

Access Pending

• This dance piece seemed a little more what I would expect from a dance piece than "Beyond the Sphere."
• At least, so it seemed to my dance-virgin eyes.
• I was impressed but the dancer's skills, but not particularly engaged by them.
• But again, maybe that's just me.
  
• I don't know what to look for really.

Kuliman mixes YouTube--ThruYou

• This was a rather astonishing piece of appropriation.
• Kuliman took bits and pieces of solo music uploaded to YouTube.
• (Often these were music lessons, sometimes they were musicians showing off some of their skills.)
• Out of all these disparate bits of music, he created coherent, multi-instrumental songs.
• The lyrics were often based on spoken-word YouTube videos auto-tuned.
• I recall Thomas McEvilley discussing Hellenistic poetry that consisted of appropriating different poets lines into a single poem.
• McEvilley was making the point that post-modernism's practices of appropriation was an ancient practice.
  
• But this piece reminded me very specifically of those ancient Greek poems.
• The skill shown in finding and mixing these fragments is astonishing.
• But the results, while perfectly good, are not great.
• This is a complaint that can be made about much OuLiPo-style art.
• i.e., art that puts a really complex, limiting constraint on the artist with the intent of fostering new, creative ways of making art.
• It's amazing, for example, that A Void was written at all.
• The fact that it is also a great novel is a fucking miracle.
• Kuliman's mixtures are totally listenable--but won't stick in my mind.

So the Fringe Festival's first night was a mixed bag. I would have been surprised if it hadn't been. I will be there for the subsequent shows. My hope is that someone in Houston will amaze me.

(There is an art show along-side the Fringe Festival. The artworks are for sale. Stephanie Toppin, for some insane reason, is selling her drawings for $25 apiece. I personally think this is a bargain. I encourage anyone who liked her work at Diverse Works and Box 13 to pick up a drawing or four, before Toppin comes to her senses.) (Toppin, not "Tobbin"--corrected now.)